Third Time's a Charm
by Shiyaki
Summary: Spencer is somewhat familiar in an unfamiliar place, but he's also special, at least to Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I sadly don't own Harry Potter (or I would be very rich and would have done different things with the characters) and neither do I own Criminal Minds.

**Author's note: **This was supposed to be even shorter, but a conversation with Kai19 made me decide otherwise. It's just a small combination of ideas I've had running through my head, nonetheless. Maybe there will be more, but I don't know, yet.

**Rating: T**

**Warning: The utter sweetness that is Spencer Reid. May induce caries, so be warned!**

„You never told us how you two met."

Harry shifted his gaze towards Hermione, who came back from putting her little hellions to bed. She had also prepared new tea and apparently managed to find some biscuits, which had survived the bottomless pitch some members of this family dared to call stomach. Harry took one of them and started to nibble on it.

"Hm… I might as well tell you now. It looks like those two won't grace us mortal beings with their mental presence anytime soon." Grinning, he jerked his chin in the general direction of his boyfriend and Ron, who were currently engaged in a game of muggle chess – The wizarding counterpart didn't work for a person without magic. It was actually pretty funny, if a bit boring, to watch them play. Both were frowning in absolute concentration and took ages to make a move. Harry was looking forward to the result; he had never seen either of them lose.

"During my first week in America I got a bit homesick and bored without any of you there, so I did something I used to do with you. I broke into a local bank and Spencer was the one about to arrest me, but it was love at first sight, so he let me go. It was all very romantic!" How Harry managed to tell the tale in absolute earnestness, he wasn't quite sure himself, but a shove to the side and a muttered 'prat' from Hermione was enough for his grin to eventually break free.

"Alright, alright, I'll spill. I didn't even talk to Spencer till the third time I met him, but you know the saying 'third time's a charm'. The first time I saw him playing chess against some random blokes. I really _was_ a bit homesick, so I stayed for awhile and watched, because it reminded me of Ron. He beat one after another without a problem." "Sounds familiar," Hermione agreed, barely hiding her amused grin behind her cup – Harry smiled at her knowingly.

"It does, doesn't it? I thought he was kind of cute then, but I didn't do anything about it and in the end I left. The second time I saw him sitting in a café and noticed his mismatched socks. That was about a week later." Hermione noticed Harry's smile turning a tad sad and laid a hand atop his. She still missed Dobby as well, even after all these years. She was also beginning to see a pattern.

"But, like I said, third time's a charm…"

_**Flashback**_

Harry entered the café that came the closest to making drinkable tea. Those Americans were too fixated on their coffee! Who cared about all those different variations and extras you could choose? – He certainly didn't!

He thanked the barista and put the right amount of money on the counter, before making his way over to the sitting area. Only now did he recognise one of the customers. It was the man he had seen twice already. He was sitting at a small, round table, a cup of - what Harry presumed to be - coffee in one hand, the other alternated between turning the pages of a book and letting its middle finger glide over the pages. Both movements happened in a ridiculously fast pace.

Harry took a seat at the closest table and cautiously sipped his hot tea, while observing the other man as inconspicuously as possible. The brown hair was noticeably shorter and more stylish than the last time he had seen the man, but he still gave off the air of someone who had been bullied a lot as a child and lacked self-confidence in social situations even nowadays. Sometimes looks could be deceiving, however. It was better to judge a book by its content - And speaking of books…

"My friends Hermione would kill to have that ability." The hand stopped in the middle of the page, before the man raised his head with a confused expression on his face. For a moment Harry contemplated what had sprung the expression into existence exactly. Was it the statement itself? Being spoken to unexpectedly? The _accent_? In the end, Harry decided to address the first – he _had_ been rather vague.

"She's a notorious bookworm and reads just about everything she gets her hands on. Hermione is a quick reader, but… I guess she can't give you a run for your money," Harry explained with a small smile on his lips. Hopefully the clarification would wipe away the bemusement and get the other man talking. And talking he did, just not in the way Harry had anticipated.

Wow. It was fascinating how many facts and statistics about the brain, science in general and… a lot of other stuff a person was able to recite in about five minutes. Harry was pretty sure the other man had a lot more material to work with and it was kind of cute how he flourished, but unfortunately he did it in more than one way.

"You spilled coffee on your book." The other man stopped in his ramblings, blinked once, before he looked down to where Harry was pointing at. In his enthusiasm he had been rather forthcoming with sweeping hand gestures, thereby forgetting the cup in his hand. Harry offered his napkin, which was promptly used to dab at the pages until only some light brown spots could be seen.

"Thank you. And… I'm sorry about before. I must have bored you to death." The 'I always do.' didn't even have to be said, it was all there in the other man's dejected expression. Obviously not a lot of people appreciated being subjected to the well of information. Harry dared to lean forward and lay a hand on the man's forearm. "Don't worry about it. I may not have understood everything, but I don't mind you telling me all those things."

"Honestly?"

The hopeful look gave Harry no other choice than to smile and nod.

"Honestly. By the way, my name's Harry."

"Spencer Reid."

By the end of the conversation he also knew Spencer's occupation – FBI, who would have thought? -, some of his hobbies and had he been roped into attending a Star Wars Night at a small cinema two blocks away. Spencer had been shocked when Harry had admitted to never having seen the films before.

All in all, it had been a brilliant day.

_**Flashback**_

"Well, the first kiss was weeks later, but **that** was the beginning," Harry finished with a soft smile on his lips, which was reflected on Hermione's. She was glad that her best friend had finally found someone to be happy with.

"I lost…"

Harry and Hermione finally refocused their attention on the two chess players, who seemed to have finished their game at last. Spencer had a disbelieving expression on his face, while Ron's showed smug satisfaction. It was more than obvious who had won and Harry was only half-surprised by the result. He put his cup down with a soft 'click' and arose from his seat. Two strides later he stood right behind his boyfriend, wrapped his arms around Spencer's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"Looks like we finally have you two back. Hermione and I were _just_ about to leave you be and have a bit of fun ourselves upstairs." Spencer threw a startled look over his shoulder, the lost game forgotten for the moment. Ron just snorted. "Mate, I'd rather believe Hermione having an affair with _Malfoy_."

Said brunette raised an eyebrow in mock consideration.

"Well, he _does_ have a nice arse."

Harry and Hermione shared a mischievous grin over a spluttering redhead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I sadly don't own Harry Potter (or I would be very rich and would have done different things with the characters) and neither do I own Criminal Minds.

**Author's note**: A little something that came to mind.

**Rating**: T

**Warning**: A lot of awkwardness

* * *

Spencer shoved his right hand into his pocket for what was probably the 50th time in about ten minutes. His index finger stroked along the edge of the thick paper to reassure himself that it was still there. He was not nervous at all, his heartbeat just happened to be a bit quicker than usual and the only reason for his clammy hands was the surprisingly warm weather for an October. He had done this at least half a dozen times in the last two months; there was no need to freak out!

Oh, who was he kidding? He was a nervous wreck! He may had issued several invitations in the past and even the first time around, when they had met in the café, but those had been very platonic meetings. This time Spencer wanted it to be a _date_, though he doubted he would have the courage to come out with it. His track-record wasn't exactly the best.

God, why was he a profiler with profiler friends?

Without his team he would probably still live in blissful ignorance. They had noticed his improved disposition and discovered the reason behind it long before he, himself, had an inkling. At least they didn't know about Harry specifically, otherwise they would be even worse in their teasing. The remarks, the leering and the _Looks_ were more than enough, thank you very much!

Spencer checked the contents of his pocket one last time, before he parked his car in front of Harry's house. He admitted to dragging his feet on the way to the door, but in the end he stood in front of it and even managed to ring the bell. After several moments the brunet heard steps, just before the door opened to reveal Harry's beaming face.

"Hi, you're right on time, dinner's almost- what's wrong?" Oh, so the panic _was_ visible. Well, no surprise there. Spencer gulped and decidedly didn't look at the other man's concerned face. He had planned to talk about his potential Halloween plans after dinner, but there was no way he would last that long, so… now or never.

"I… could we talk? I-I wanted to ask you something." Harry stared at him piercingly – making Spencer fidget -, but finally nodded. "Sure, let's go to the kitchen, so I can keep an eye on the food." Unfortunately the delicious smell emanating from said food didn't lessen Spencer's nervousness. It took several tries and the avoidance of eye contact for the brunet to even start talking in actual words. Spencer wished it hadn't worked at all. He was horrified by what came out of his mouth and _he couldn't stop_!

The beginning - "It's Halloween in a couple of days."- hadn't been too bad, but instead of asking his _damn_ question, he had promptly started a rather longwinded explanation of Halloween's origins. What next? Was he going to spout one statistic or another? Why wasn't Harry stopping him? This was one time he wanted him to. Badly!

Somehow Spencer managed to get back on track. How? He would probably never know, even with an eidetic memory, but he was glad he did it. "…so, I wanted to ask you… if you were willing to… to go to the reenactment of the 19th century Phantasmagoria. As my… as my date."

God, he had actually said it! And he couldn't hear mocking laughter yet, which he assumed to be a good thing. But… maybe Harry had long since fled without him noticing? Or maybe the other man was frozen in horrified shock? Hesitantly Spencer raised his eyes and instantly took a step back, when he saw Harry's face. Aghast - There was no other way to describe that facial expression. This was probably what it felt like to get staked through the heart. It certainly hurt a lot.

"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I should go now." What had he been _thinking_? His barely existing love life had always been a disaster and he had been humiliated on countless occations by potential love interests, so why should it be any different now? It was evidence of his distressed state that his brain wasn't even calculating the odds. Before he had time to flee to the door, a hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. Spencer flinched slightly, but stopped moving.

"Wait! It's not you, I just… I'm not a big fan of Halloween. My parents were murdered on Halloween and a lot of other bad stuff happened during the years. It's not so bad nowadays, but I still don't like the day much. I usually go to my parent's grave, but I'm in America now, so I probably won't this year. That said, I… don't know what this Phantasmaria is, but I'd love to go with you. As your date."

"Phantasmagoria," Spencer corrected automatically, but didn't actually pay attention to the mistake. He was currently a bit too busy with an onslaught of feelings. Awkward, shocked, panicked, shameful, sorry, disbelieving, elated – he didn't know what to feel at the moment.

Spencer slowly turned back to Harry and gulped. The other man looked sincere and he couldn't detect any pity in those eyes. He frowned. "Are you- are you sure? We could go just as friends; you don't have to- mpf." The brunet stared in wide-eyed shock at the other man whose lips were suddenly pressed against his. It was awkward and part of Harry's spectacle frame was digging into his cheek, but it was still mind-blowing – Perhaps, because he hadn't anticipated the action.

The kiss didn't last long and was rather chaste, but a moment to remember – even without an eidetic memory.

"I would love to go with you, as your date," Harry repeated and smiled softly at him .

Spencer nodded dumbfounded and, after a minute or two, even managed to open his mouth.

"I think the food is burning."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I sadly don't own Harry Potter (or I would be very rich and would have done different things with the characters) and neither do I own Criminal Minds.

**Author's note**: Why does this exist? It was supposed to be a one-shot, dammit! *sob* Well, after watching the most recent episode of Criminal Minds (in my country), I absolutely had to write this. It was actually hard to write, because of Spencer's psychological state, but I hope, I did alright and it isn't too illogical or rushed. You may have to watch the episode to understand what's happening… at least the scene concerning this. The other stuff, obviously, wouldn't happen in this AU. Btw, did anyone else notice the recurring theme of Firsts in this story? I only did now… *cough*.

**Rating**: M

**Warning: Sexual content, spoilers for episode 8.12**

* * *

Spencer stared at the key on the palm of his hand. Harry had given it to him two weeks ago, but he had never used it. He usually just rang the bell, because when Harry opened the door and let him in, he didn't have the feeling of being an intruder. Ringing this time would be counterproductive, though. Taking a deep breath Spencer put the key to work and opened the door.

Silence greeted him, but he had anticipated that.

Six steps led him to the living room, another seven to the big, comfortable arm chair. He had sat on it countless times - well, seventy-five times actually -, but seeing it now induced a nervous shiver in the brunet. He slowly sat down and took another deep, shaky breath. Only one more thing to do, there was barely any chance of turning back now.

One hesitant hand moved to his leather satchel and took out the item that would be the most important of the evening. Spencer stared at the blindfold like he had done with the key, while twisting it methodically through his fingers. He couldn't quite believe what he was about to do. He swallowed thickly, but tied the black cloth around his eyes nonetheless. Moments later he heard determined footsteps coming closer and suddenly he was twelve all over again, standing in front of his crush and getting laughed at by his so called classmates. 'Tormentors' was probably the more suitable term.

His fingers gripped the armrests hard enough to turn his knuckles white and there was probably no muscle in his body that wasn't tense. The first, soft kiss to his temple made him flinch, but there was no laughter, just several more kisses to his face and gentle hands in his hair.

His fingers didn't relax and neither did the rest of his body.

One knee sank into the upholstery next to his right thigh, then the other knee next to his left one, before a moderate weight settled on his lap. Spencer was proud that he didn't flinch this time. The hot mouth was slowly sucking at his neck now, making his breath hitch. His mind was still prepared to get humiliated, but his body was starting to like what was being done to it. He self-consciously shifted, when part of his anatomy started to like being touched a bit **too** much.

"Shhh, it's alright. I'm the same, see?"

Harry moved a bit forward until his pelvis was pressed against Spencer's, thereby giving the brunet a chance to feel the truth of the other man's words. He felt his cheeks heat up – they had kissed and touched each other a bit, though never done anything too sexual -, but a lot of the unwelcomed negative tension left his body. The painful memories weren't forgotten, but just now, they didn't matter as much. A finger hooked into the knot of his tie and loosened it, before deft fingers started to unbutton his shirt. Both articles of clothing landed on the floor with a slight rustling soon after.

Spencer's own cautious fingers finally dared to abandon the upholstery to do some exploring of their own. They stopped short at the feel of bare skin, however. This time there _was_ some laughter, but it was breathy and lacked any malicious intent. Instead of making the brunet defensive, it made him more daring. Curious fingertips explored the new territory, tracing any scars and dips they found on their way. He may be taller than Harry, but the other man was certainly the more muscular one of them.

Harry's fingers weren't idle either, nor, Spencer realized slightly shocked, were their eager hips, which had started moving without his consent or notice. The brunet's embarrassment came back with a vengeance, when the first, obvious moan left his mouth. He tried to stifle the following ones, but apparently Harry wouldn't have it. The raven-haired man nipped at his compressed lips, but then relented somewhat by engaging Spencer in a kiss, which successfully muffled their further moaning.

His climax came pathetically quick, but there was pretty much nothing he could do about it, so the brunet clutched Harry against his body and yielded.

Still panting, but probably more relaxed than he had ever been in his life, Spencer leant back. His arms were still wrapped around the other man, but had loosened their desperate hold.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" The brunet heard Harry snort softly and felt him shifting. "You did not just ask me that. I think your genius may be shot to hell for the moment." No genius was needed to hear the slightly smug tone in his voice. "Equal footing… to give me a bit of control over the situation?" Spencer guessed sluggishly and received an affirmative sound in response, while the raven-haired man unknotted the blindfold.

The first thing the brunet saw was Harry's concerned face.

"Are you alright?" Spencer nodded slightly and even dared to press a kiss to the other man's collar bone. Perhaps his mind was really taking a break. He wasn't even feeling embarrassed anymore... His pants felt gross, however.

"Thank you for doing this for me, Harry." Said man smiled wryly and raised his hands to run his fingers through Spencer's hair.

"It wasn't exactly a chore, you know?"

"Even so."

The brunet was glad he had trusted Harry enough to disclose some of his painful childhood memories. Now he only had another couple hundred issues to work through.

* * *

"Sorry for being late."

Spencer had spent the night at Harry's and they had gotten a bit… side-tracked this morning. The brunet sat down, put his satchel next to his chair and turned his attentive gaze towards the rest of his team and the screen. Said screen showed some gruesomely disfigured corpses, but what really got to him were his aforementioned colleagues. _All_ of them were staring at him with varying – but equally disconcerting – facial expressions.

"What? I'm not _that_ late, am I?"

"Hey, Pretty Boy, looks like you had an interesting evening. Or night?" Leering teasingly, Morgan, who was sitting next to him, touched a spot on his neck. "This is one hell of a hickey you have here." Horrified, the brunet slapped a hand over the love bite, decidedly not looking at the amused faces. He hadn't noticed it due to his lack of time, but he clearly remembered Harry having sucked _right there_. A couple of times even.

Fortunately they took pity on him and quickly continued the case presentation. He was still embarrassed, though. Just after the debriefing came to an end, Morgan laid a hand on his shoulder, making Spencer tense up again. "But seriously, I'm happy for you." The rest of the team nodded and smiled at him – even Hotch, to his everlasting shock! Morgan patted his shoulder twice more, before leaving the room to start investigating.

Well, knowing them, it could have been worse.


End file.
